Radiation Day 2, Part 2 – In which the music in the beam room makes me feel old

When I was back home for the holidays this past winter, an old friend of mine remarked how he was suddenly, and unpleasantly made to feel old when he heard a Nirvana song on a classic rock radio station.

Well, friends, I’m here to say that today it happened to me too. When the treatment started, “Island in the Sun,” by Weezer was playing. Now, let’s be clear – I’m with Leslie Jones – post-Pinkerton Weezer is more or less dead to me. But, it was still kinda nice to hear a Weezer song and be taken back to those immediately post-college days living in San Francisco, experiencing the ridiculousness of dot com 1.0.

Then, what song should come on next? Oh, you’ll never guess. It was “Fortunate Son” by m@#$%(^&%*ing Creedence Clearwater Revival! (Listen, I have no opinion about CCR, so cool your jets if you just started typing an angry comment in defense of the Fogerty bros or reminding me that the band was from SF, and that that should be worth something to me. Carry on; we can still be friends.)

Injury was only compounded by insult when I was assaulted with “I Only Wanna Be With You” by Hootie and the Blowfish. Really, dude? The dolphins make you cry? I have literally never seen a baby brought to tears by dolphins. Not stopping to watch the firetruck park at the firehouse? Yes. Being told “no, you may not bring that handful of pea gravel home to pretend you’re cooking it in a soup?” Yes. Watching the “Snowflake, Snowflake” YouTube video? Absolutely. (True story – this video had the exact same effect on little R when he was about 18 months old). But, dolphins? Sorry – doesn’t pass muster.

Alright, maybe we’re a little off track here. Apologies. For the 2 readers who made it this far, what I’m trying to say is that it’s a little upsetting that music from my post-college days is now a staple on what I suspect can only be generously described as a “classic hits” radio station. And, dammit the only benefit of this horrific cancer situation has been that it’s made me feel relatively young (remember, the average age of a glioblastoma diagnosis is 64). I won’t have that taken from me – certainly not by Hootie and/or the Blowfish!